Foiled By Titty Tape

The first time George Clooney fulfilled his contractual obligations by bringing Stacy Kiebler out to pose with him at one of his premieres, they had the chemistry of a soft dick and an anus-less ass. If awkwardness was a power source, George could use those uncomfortable as shit pictures to run the conveyer belt of leased trophy hos in his basement. George and Stacy went for round 2 at last night’s Paris premiere of The Descendents and if you put the black sheep of the Keebler Elves and the ghost of Rosemary Clooney together, they’d probably have more sparks between them than this mess right here.

Couldn’t Stacy come to the premiere dressed like Brad Pitt’s peen to pull some kind of excitement out of George’s face? George’s meh-ish facial expressions run from “Why are you still here?” to “Must call the escort agency in the morning” to “This bitch’s titty tape came out to play and I ain’t even going to tell her.” I mean, George is more excited to see some bald dude in a brown suit than the trick he’s supposedly scissoring on a sex swing. Yeah, I know George has to have a shiny thing on his arm whenever he’s selling a movie to make him look like some kind of Bond type who is a master pussy wrangler, but it’s starting to make him look like a Hugh Hefner type who would rather be making out with a bowl of cold tapioca pudding.

But my favorite part is the titty tape. You know you have problems when the titty tape is the star of your premiere. And now I want to tapioca wedding.

Mimi Comes Out!

Giving us shades of Hottie from Flavor of Love (thanks to that miso-glazed microwaved mop on her head), the Unicorn Siren of the Rainbows stepped out in NYC yesterday afternoon while answering the question: How many people does it take to escort a fragile teddy bear princess three steps to her apartment building? I swear, I’ve seen 90-year-old paraplegics handled with less care.

I know that Mimi gave birth to Baby Boo Boo Bee Doo and Baby Ishtar only 3 months ago and I also know that she’s had all of her human bones replaced with fairy cartilage, but this is a little thick on the much scale, dahling. Most lambs are out frolicking across thee fields just seconds after their young baaaaahs out of their vaginas, but this one has to be safely guarded like she’s wearing 9-inch stiletto platform heels made entirely of shellacked rain drops (which is totally possible, by the way).

Instead of using their energy to make sure Mimi doesn’t trip on the tiny sidewalks cracks, her handlers (Note: I’ve got fapping dibs on the one in the ebony tank, so DON’T!) should’ve punched themselves for putting her in a regular NYC cab. YES, Mimi sat on a seat that is mostly covered in the thick smegma that forms when various kinds of butt sweat marinate together. ILLEGAL! Just for today, I’m going to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they brought a stuffed animal carcass for Mimi to sit on so her immaculate nalgas wouldn’t have to mingle with the stank syrup of peons.

NO SUIT FOR YOU!!

The lovely and top heavy ginge known as Christina Hendricks should officially change her name to OCHO CHICHI and slap that shit on the back of her Hall of Famewhoring jersey!! Lucky Magazine reports (via Popeater), that she can’t walk in to a Wal-Mart like a normal ho and find a bathing suit that will fit her full figured ass.

She tells Lucky, “It’s really hard to find a bathing suit if you have breasts, you either get smooshed down or there’s no support.” The Queen of chichis just burped out a SALINE PLEASE!!! Bitch yammered on that her and her husband have “sketched out designs“.

To all the women out there that “have breasts” who have been soaking in solitude in their bathtubs while crying tears of leche from the 3rd degree burns they received from their cheesy ass sun lamp because they can’t find a swimsuit to wear in public, FEAR NOT, Christina feels your pain (not really)! I guess shit has changed from back when she didn’t have breasts!

Kim Kardashian Is Still Trying To Prove That Her Fat Ass Is Real

Since Kim Kardashian’s only goal in life is to shove every part of her triple stuffed ass dumplings down the public’s throat, she put it under an X-ray machine yesterday and Khloe Kardashian posted the results on her blog with the note:

Hey dolls. The PROOF is in the X-ray. Kim’s ass is 100% real!!!

The words “real” and “Kim Kardashian” will never sit on the same side of the table, so Khloe Kardashian needs to stick her fibbin’ fingers up her culo and stop. Why are we still on the subject of Kim’s claim to fame? Besides, the X-ray of this trash heap heifer’s ass proves nothing. Yes, this X-ray could pass for a picture of a plastic bag full of curdled cum which would mean it truly is Kim’s ass. But I wiped my monitor, squinted my eyes and I still don’t see Kris Jenner’s head anywhere up in there. That is totally just a still of Khloe’s anal gland sac from her sex tape with Lamar. Take back your receipt, Kim!

Here’s Kim with her stylist, Gaga Michelle Williams, in NYC last night.

BREAKING! Blake Lively Loves Homemade Whipped Cream

In news that will make you miss the exciting days of hearing about the Pollyanna of fag hags Taylor Swift and Jake Gyllenhaal giggling over pumpkin lattes together, People reports that Blake NotSoLively and Leonardo DiCatchaHo ordered two cups of coffee last Thursday at some shop in Carmel, CA. In related news, you just injected the contents of two espresso capsules directly into your brain so that your nose won’t hit the 6 key while reading this incredibly exciting story (SPOILER ALERT: it will).

The love affair that bloomed out of a publicist’s BlackBerry started in Cannes has since made stops in Italy, NYC, Disneyland and now Carmel. A witness type says that before taking a walk together, Blake and Leo came into the Carmel Coffeehouse and did this: “Blake ordered two cappuccinos. One with whipped cream, and one without. But when she learned that the whipped cream was homemade, she added it to the second drink. She was very sweet.”

And I bet that basic bitch Blake never winked at Leo and said that she’ll churn out a dollop of his homemade whipped cock cream later (Note: Can you actually whip cock cream with a whisk?). What a missed opportunity! I swear, Blake is so bland that she makes a Quaker’s yeast infection seem full of flavor. I also swear that if I ever called People to tell them that Blake ordered two cappuccinos with homemade whipped cream, I’d probably just quit life. Err. But then again, here I am using up my bandwidth to tell you that the new Taylor and Jake ordered two cappuccinos with homemade whipped cream. In my defense, the fact that this weekend I ate Cheerios with tap water and powdered cream because I was too lazy to go downstairs to buy milk means that I have already quit life.

(Image via Bauer Griffin)

Kirstie Alley’s Got A New Piece And A 22-Inch Waist

Why must Kirstie Alley do this to herself? Why can’t she just put the crazy on mute and stop hollerin’ about how she’s a SIZE 4 and has a 22-INCH WAIST? We can all scream about how we have a 10-inch dick, indestructible nipples, a bottomless asshole and hands as soft as a cashmere fleshlight, but that doesn’t mean people are going to believe it. And trust me, they don’t. I write that into my Craigslist ad all the time and the e-mail that’s reserved for ho shit still hasn’t been christened by a response.

You know, Kirstie can kick, stretch and kick, and yet she’s still burning her tongue raw with blatant lies by trying to get us to believe that she’s as thin as her sense of measurement. Kirstie gets a Scientology clap (aka a dick slap on the ass while hiding in a sauna closet) from me for losing nearly 60 pounds since starting on Dancing with the Stars, but she says she isn’t done.

irstie’s goal is to fit into a dress with a 22-inch wait and she’s almost there. Kirstie said this to Life & Style, “My goal dress has a waist that’s 22 inches. I tried it on, and I can almost zip it up.” Kirstie is going to Italy in a few weeks and says that she’ll be able to get into her goal dress by then. The minute Kirstie zips that dress up, we can all hop on a pig and fly down into the icy tundras of Hell where John Travolta will be fucking on a vagina and loving it.

Life & Style also points out that Megan Fox has a 22-inch waist, so she can share clothes with Kirstie now.

Unless Kirstie means the dress is 22 inches in diameter, bitch is telling an XXXXL lie and needs to stop buying her measuring tapes at the House of FIBrics. If you removed all of Kirstie’s ribs, cinched her in with a girdle made of wishful thinking, vacuum sealed her and put her in Paula Abdul’s “Promise of a New Day” video, she still wouldn’t have a 22-waist. Kirstie’s body looks good and so she needs to quit with the weight loss talk and spend more time licking fat-free hummus off of her supposed boy toy’s carrot stick.

Yes, the Daily Mail says that this hot piece named Ted Volynets is Kirstie’s boyfriend and dance instructor. All together now: FUCK MY LIFE.